I didn’t give my dogs any pancakes this morning. I ate the sort stack all by myself. Still, they waited underfoot by the stove for a handout. Usually I give them a pancake each, but today I ignored them. I was hungry and didn’t want to share the small batch I had made. Plus, the little one on the right is getting chubby.
Their constant begging is my fault. I feed them scraps all the time or let them lick my plate. Lately, I have stopped doing that. It is difficult to say no, to break a pattern that I think shows love and affection. But maybe a disciplined approach expresses love, too. Maybe saying no occasionally is a good thing, even though it is difficult to do.
I sat at the dining room table and my one dog sat to my right looking up at me and my second dog sat opposite me on the other side of the table. I ignored them and held the Sunday paper up so I wouldn’t have to look at their pleading eyes.
Even when I cleared my plate I considered letting them lick it and thought, no. Their constant begging irritates me.
I wrapped the leftover pancakes in tin foil for my breakfast later this week; not theirs.
Is this the start of something new? Does it mean they will love me less? I hope not. Time will tell.
Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. --Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-61)